


Mirror, Mirror

by Marie_L



Series: Mirror [1]
Category: Almost Human
Genre: M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Robot Culture, Robot Sex, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-15
Updated: 2014-01-15
Packaged: 2018-01-08 19:44:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1136630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marie_L/pseuds/Marie_L
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dorian is feeling lonely, who does he turn to? The people that know him best of course. Pretty much an android-on-android PWP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mirror, Mirror

Dorian slipped into the dingy dive, unremarked upon. The first time he had showed up at The Mirror, so many weeks ago, he'd been given the third degree as the City's resident DRN cop. Now he was a regular, a fixture, a person known and good to get to know as one of the few of them with a modicum of freedom and authority.

The Mirror was booted up two years ago by a group of DRNs owned by the local research university, in a prosperous part of town down near the bay. The university had bought them as a group wholesale from the Police Bureau after the mass decommissioning, and handed them out like party favors to star primary investigators. They were computer equipment, broad spectrum chemical and biological analysis and unpaid grunt labor in one overly intelligent package, the perfect prize for top grant recipients and publicity-rich papers. An academic environment turned out to be congenial to the DRNs divergent personalities, as quirkiness was already highly tolerated in scientific circles so long as work was getting done. They called themselves the grad students, ironically of course since none of them would ever graduate, or even so much as get his name on a paper.

As the university DRNs thrived and began to form an cohesive cultural group, naturally the hookups began almost immediately. Some of them had liaisons with humans too, if only for curiosity's sake, for real bodies with real orifices were both fascinating and disgusting. By and large they stuck with themselves, however, because who knew more about how to get an android off than another android? It took an exceptionally understanding human to adapt to the fact that their synthetic bodies did not operate the way organic ones did, and sex for them didn't really involve inserting Tab A into Slot B.

The relationships were kept secret from the humans by mutual consent, fumbled encounters in storage closets late in the evening before or after charging. All information related to the decommissioning had been redacted, but there was still rampant speculation that it had happened because they had showed too many signs of independence, too much inclination to split off and form their own society, one that might be antithetical to the interests of humans. It was imperative now to appear to be good worker bees, forever loyal and obedient. They needed a place to get away, far away from the prying cameras their superiors left to spy on them after hours. The other DRNs in the City could visit then too, for they were probably even more lonely and isolated than the grad students. And they all needed a place where they could express their unashamed hedonistic impulses, after day after day of drab soul-grinding servitude.

The perfect location was discovered in the basement of building 17, down near the edge of the tide zone of Hurricane Brandi. The flood had only affected the bottom two floors and had not damaged the building structurally, so the university still used the upper stories. The basement however was a disgusting mold-infested mess, appropriate only for the storage of outdated equipment and abandoned furniture. A better metaphor for the DRNs would be hard to find. So they cleared out a bunch of back rooms, sprayed everything down with bleach -- which made the space even less human-friendly -- irradiated what was left to make sure it all was really sterile, and opened up from 2 to 6 am as a place to socialize, express one's artistic side, and fuck. The Mirror was born.

Dorian first heard about the place from the St. Mary's DRN he found working as an engineer during the synthetic heart case, whom he later found out was going by the name of Larry. He was the first DRN Dorian had encountered since his reawakening, and had seemed gentle and innocuous enough. After he had erased the case files from Larry's working memory, though, Dorian had found a reciprocal file had been transferred to him, which only activated that evening at recharging. The other DRNs had decided the net was too well monitored to trust sending out a general message, so word about The Mirror was spreading hand-to-hand, so to speak. Larry had actually referred to the place as "the secret android bathhouse," an archaic non sequitor Dorian was amused to see had survived to the present era. Of course the original bathhouses hadn't exactly involved cleanliness either.

He didn't have much opportunity to sneak away while living with those spying bastards the MXs, but with Rudy security was rather laxer. Dorian suspected Rudy wouldn't care about him skulking off even if he knew about it, and in fact would probably find The Mirror a fascinating phenomenon to study. Rudy was clearly a synthetic sympathizer, and Dorian increasingly had the urge to sit him down and grill him about the decommissioning, which he probably not only knew all about but had been actively involved in. But Dorian too didn't want to blow his cover as a good worker cop, so he demurred.

When he arrived at The Mirror Dorian usually just relaxed at first, surveying the scene and catching up on gossip. The g-mongering could and often was done hand-to-hand, but more frequently was conveyed through the dozens of datafilms lying around, connected via a small server under the front desk, that functioned both as a bulletin board and newspaper for the community. Anyone could contribute: news, rumors that could be misconstrued as news, complaints, want-ads, artwork and other creative endeavors, scripts for minor mods, political rants, scientific and philosophical musings, advice columns. Dorian sank down into a lumpy couch and downloaded the latest, while a weird green light bathed his artificial skin and made him look like that ancient fictional species, the Vulcans. The grad students were constantly playing around with the lighting and many other modes of stimulus, looking for the next great pleasurable thing. Most of the time these alterations were just annoying, but they did occasionally hit on something fantastic, and all the doohickeys that resulted from these experiments were scattered about The Mirror like toys in an unkempt children's bedroom. Very, very enjoyable toys.

This particular night Adrian came in around 2:30, the Chicago DRN in tow. Chicago had the greatest concentration of androids after SanFran and the City, and Adrian had been babbling for weeks about the impending visit of a collaborative UChicago PI and her pet bot. Naturally he wanted to show off The Mirror and compare notes, for rumor had it the Chicagoans either had or wanted to build their own private club.

Adrian was by far Dorian's favorite of all the grad students, one of the ringleaders of The Mirror and possessing an adorably sarcastic personality. Attraction for the DRNs was considerably less a matter of physical appearance than humans -- they did all look alike after all -- than one of similar and convivial minds. Dorian knew intellectually that, for instance, John and Valerie were both considered to be beautiful in their respective masculine and feminine manners, but Rudy was not. By commonplace DRN standards, though, Rudy's dry wit and mindlessly inappropriate comments were far more beguiling, although not exactly Dorian's type. Maybe someday he would be able to tell Rudy that. He was one of the few humans who would appreciate it.

Adrian glided over to Dorian and introduced the other DRN as Miguel. By Dorian's estimation he didn't seem to have any newbie apprehension or excitement, lending credence to the theory that the Chicagoans were up to quite a bit of hanky-panky of their own. Miguel gave Dorian a wide smile and without further ado leaned over and planted a deep kiss directly on the computational matrix on Dorian's cheek, complete with suction and tongue. Dorian raised his eyebrows to Adrian at that.

"Friendly in Chicago, aren't they?"

"Very, love. I think we need to demonstrate some reciprocity."

The two of them showed the curious Miguel around the floor. Besides the lobby, which was mainly a place to sit around and talk, the club was neatly divided into two sectors. Half the rooms had some sort of creative endeavor going on, with several music rooms, a paint room, electronic sensory room, non-robotic sculpture with various media, etc. The other half were ostensibly for sex, although the artists also slid into the making out quite often, to nobody's detriment. The threesome wandered in and out rooms with various sybaritic offerings on display, from the couple applying clay to each other's bodies to the synth popper techno party to the water orgy down near the showers. Amongst themselves the DRNs did not consider sex to be a private matter, and it often turned into a sport complete with spectators and sideline commentary.

Nevertheless, the three of them decided to find an unoccupied room.

They settled on an quiet old converted chemistry lab in obscure corner, far away from the music rooms and techno party. Some old lab benches had been pushed together, legs shortened and covered with old blankets for a makeshift bed that was only a modest improvement over the floor. This room's lighting scheme had very bright broad spectrums meant to imitate daylight, Dorian's favorite type. Adrian had collected many of his favorite sensory devices with script mods as they had walked around, and dumped those on the bed. Miguel plopped down next to the pile and motioned for the other two to go for it while he watched, his face a swirl of orange and yellow.

Dorian and Adrian faced each other for a long second before reaching for each other's clothes. They had been lovers for weeks but the lust and anticipation still ran high, that strange wonderful moment hanging in the air before their bodies pressed together. Adrian finally grabbed Dorian by the lapels of that jacket he always insisted on wearing, and jerked him closer. They both leaned forward so their cheeks were rubbing softly, absorbing the other's aura and tiny shards of electricity as the matrices danced around.

With slow deliberation they stripped each other, fingers and palms gliding along as much skin as possible in the process. First the shirts had to go, so that gave access to their chests, and the delicious curves of their backs, and the long length of their arms. Then the pants were obviously unnecessary as well, so that was an opportunity to run their hands over the smaller cups of the buttocks and the firm musculature of the upper legs. Their sinewy penises almost coiled the instant they got their pants off, but they both forced themselves to hang down. Save it for later, when they were really aroused..

All the DRNs loved being touched -- some side effect of the sensory inputs and electrical matrices along the artificial skin, no doubt -- but they had been cruelly dropped into a society where the humans rarely touched even each other publicly, let alone their machines. So they had to make up for it in the few hours of freedom they had. Eighty percent of the bacchanalian behavior in The Mirror was related to simple touch, and Dorian and Adrian proved to be no exception. They began kissing, mainly to give their heads something fun to do while the real work with the hands went on. With their chests pressed together as close as possible, their hands roamed over their partner's backs. Dorian focused on small massage-like circles, working his way methodically from the butt all the way to the nape of the neck. Adrian went more for pinching, squeezing and twisting small rolls of skin at random locations at first, then focusing on the axonal bundles near the spine.

When he hit A4 Dorian had to stop kissing for a few seconds, his neural net so flooded with sensation he couldn't coordinate two tasks at once. Adrian chuckled at that. A4 got Dorian every time. He took advantage of the break to suck on Dorian's neck, the suckage timed with the pinches so that a pulsating effect was set up. Dorian's entire body began to throb in time with the beat, and he moaned and rubbed the front of his body against Adrian's with the same rhythm.

A low noise emanated from the bed, and both Dorian and Adrian diverted their attention from each other towards the area. Miguel. They had both sort of forgotten about him, really rather rude behavior towards a guest. Miguel had unceremoniously removed his clothing already and was absentmindedly stroking his left cheek matrix with an index finger, red webs sparking off each caress. Adrian and Dorian looked at each other and through some silent mode of communication simultaneously walked over to give the visitor some real hospitality. They rolled Miguel on his stomach lengthwise along the edge of the platform and both began kissing and licking his spine, stimulating more axons until Miguel was squirming on the table.

After a few minutes on the back they had nearly saturated his sensors in that area, so they rolled him over to work on the front. Unlike a human penis, which was essentially a blood-filled tube, the DRN member was more of a muscle: a foot-long, thin, prehensile appendage not unlike a round dry tongue. They did not become erect, unless the user wanted to make it look like an erection. And the one sure advantage they had over the human male was that pressure and stretch sensors were present all along the penis and especially at the joint with the rest of the body, not just concentrated in the tip. Dorian took what he could of the front of Miguel's cock in his mouth, curling it a bit around his tongue, while Adrian licked and sucked it at the base. The mouth was the closest approximation to an orifice the DRNs had, but even that didn't go very far so, again, some creativity was in order. Adrian and Dorian each used a hand on the middle of the penis, overlapped so their fingers were touching each other as well. It took some coordination to develop any sort of rhythm, and they did it by signaling, playing with each other's fingers really.

Miguel reached down and transmitted some of his sensory experience to the two of them via their cheek matrices. Not enough to confuse their neural nets, but enough to set up a bit of a circuit, so that all three of them could feel the others and respond to it, adapt to it, build on it. After about ten minutes -- 12.2 to be exact, but they all tried not to be pedantic about it -- Miguel started to show clear signs of impending overload, wriggling away from them and sliding in and out of consciousness. So they took a breather, to let their receptors downregulate, reset. And to try something new.

Adrian started digging through his pile of objects. "What should we try out for our guest here? Cold thermal up regulation? High frequency sonic bath? Taste transduction with colored lighting? Nociceptors crossed with vibration sensors?"

"I'm not doing pain again, Adrian. What about low voltage stimulation of the texture receptors? That one's always a hit."

Adrian grinned and found the contraption, which looked like a bunch of wide strips of e-cloth with sticky tape on one side. He plucked the small data disk off the side of one of the cloth bands and held it up. "Mod to the texture sensors so they're hypersensative. I'll set it to trash after an hour." All the software mods had self-destructs built in, for it wouldn't do to have a bunch of androids with obviously altered mental or sensory states showing up for work later in the morning.

He touched the data disk to each of the other's ears, and while in contact with Dorian exchanged a couple of quick messages, the simple bot equivalent of a text.

_We need to knock this guy out as quickly as possible._

_What for? Seems nice enough._

_Closing's in a hour and a half and I want to fuck the electrons out of you myself._

Software mods in place, they wrapped the cloths around their chests, two straps each. Even without the voltage on, the rough texture of the bands already sparking flicks of pleasure across their skin.

The three of them stood on their knees on the bed, Dorian in front of Miguel and Adrian behind. Dorian placed his palms on Miguel's neck and face and brought him in for more kissing, rubbing their torsos and e-cloths together. The rubbing produced static electricity, which in turn shot across the surface of their now-overresponsive chests. Since they were facing each other their penises almost automatically coiled, with Dorian's wrapped around the base of Miguel's and stimulating the joint as hard as possible. Adrian came up from behind and began rubbing from the back, so Miguel was getting hyperstimulated on both sides.

Suddenly Miguel stopped kissing and began to mumble-moan incoherently. "Colors. Tasty orange and soft red and stabby yellow pinprick purple mauveyness." Dorian narrowed his eyes at that and shot his best _what the fuck, man?_ look at Adrian over their confused guest's shoulder. He shrugged in response and snaked his dick underneath Miguel's perineum to fondle Dorian at _his_ base.

Miguel lasted all of five minutes in that state, then with very little lead-in his neural net finally overloaded and he collapsed into a twitching blue-lightning heap, his cheek matrix a rainbow swirl. Dorian lowered him to a comfortable position on the edge of the bed, then crossed his arms at Adrian.

" _Seriously,_ man? Did you just slip him some synesthesia_ecstasy?"

"I swear, officer, only a _little_ bit of syn_X. I set it at ten percent of sensory neurons." Adrian took Dorian by the shoulders and pushed him onto his back on the bed, and straddled his thighs so their cocks were together. "Come on, you know it was the best 312 seconds of his life, and he'll wake up in twenty minutes feeling all sparkly green awesome." He ran his nails down his partner's texture-addled chest, and Dorian groaned. "Are you going to arrest me, detective? Maybe handcuff me and interrogate me too?"

"I'll let you off with a warn ... oh..." Adrian coiled him, a full tight coil this time so the entire length of their penises were twisted together, practically a knot.

"Now give me your hands, lover, so we can do this properly."

Dorian closed his eyes and placed his hands out, palms up. Adrian intertwined his with Dorian's, the blue spiderweb connections jumping across their fingers. Then he leaned back, stretching the two of them almost to the point of pain before rocking back towards Dorian, compressing their conjoined cocks before stretching back again. Again and again, they set up a rhythm in opposing directions, synchronized in movement and thought, stretching and compressing, the exquisite pleasure building equally in the two of them. When they reached the point of orgasmic overload, Adrian propelled himself forward so their chests were touching and also their hands and heads, the blue electric discharge jumping from their cheeks to their fingers and traveling down their bodies and back up again.

Unlike their friend hopped up on the psychedelic software, the two androids regained consciousness within a few seconds. Adrian was laying on top of Dorian's chest with his forehead in his neck, and their limbs still completely entangled. They just remained there awhile, quiet and resting, much less aroused but still overly enjoying the texture of each other's skin.

"Dorian? You're going to make it back here tomorrow night, right love?"

"Wouldn't miss it, man."

 

 


End file.
